Hurricane Jane: Plain Jane Two
by Larry1710
Summary: After the events of Plain Jane in Thirteen Chapters, Jane is mad. She wants back into Middle Earth and has worked out a way to trick Fanfiction into putting her back there. There are many questions facing her though. Will she survive the trip back to Middle Earth? Will she end up somewhere safe? And where is that lump of a man known as Boromir? They have unfinished business.
1. Chapter 1

**Hurricane Jane: Plain Jane Two**

_**In which our heroine (well let's be honest, anti-heroine) is thrown back to her favourite imaginary place.**_

_**PROLOGUE**_

Ah pain. There's the sweet torturous pain of being in love with someone and then there's the torturous pain that comes from being stabbed in the stomach. She had forgotten just quite how sore it was, just quite how lightheaded it made her. She tried to concentrate and sit up, but someone pushed her down.

"Calm yourself," said a voice, from very far away.

There was something she was supposed to remember. Was she in France? It was a foreign language but it wasn't French. Maybe Danish. You don't know Danish, Jane Thomas, she told herself.

Westron! Her eyes flew open. It had worked! It had worked! She looked down, and saw a lot of blood.

Jane fainted.

She drifted in and out of sleep, drowsy and uncomfortable, always trying to sleep on her side but the pain in her stomach stopping her. Sometimes it felt as if a sharp blade was trapped underneath her skin and was poking her. She felt hot, very hot; feverish. But it felt, slowly, like it was lessening.

She thought of Boromir. Was any man worth this? I mean, really? Was he even alive, she wondered? Was it possible to divert the course of history even if that history was a fiction?

She was thirsty. Hugely thirsty. Whatever elves were looking after her, they could have given her a drink, she thought. Her hands grasped the edge of her bed and the solidness gave her strength and she pushed herself up. Her head swam and her eyesight was patchy, great blobs of black floated in front of her and she sank her head between her knees. Willing herself not to throw up, she pushed herself to stand and on her shaking legs flopped towards the window.

The leafy surroundings she expected to see weren't there. Where were the tall trees of Lothlorien? She wasn't in a talan. Perhaps she was in Rivendell, that was a mixture of trees and stone – that would explain the stone. It was misty outside, but she could see she was high up, perhaps in the clouds, in a strange city she had never seen before. It was grey, almost white, and entirely made of stone, like granite, and it didn't look like anywhere she had seen in Middle Earth before.

It reminded her of somewhere, though. She squinted and looked through the clouds, and saw the flat plain stretch towards a black and dark mountain. It didn't look like a mountain though, there was fire coming out of it…

She looked down. Her stomach was bandaged, tender but seemed to be healing. The door opened and a woman dressed very similar to a nun stepped through, carrying some glass vials.

Jane suddenly realized she wasn't with the elves, at all. She was in Gondor.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Fan Fiction!" she cursed.

"Ahem," said the healer. Jane looked into her face; cold blue eyes were staring back at her. "Now that you're lucid and moving about, Lord Denethor would like to see you."

Jane gulped; the thought of coming face to face with Boromir's terrifying father was horrific. He was known to be paranoid, xenophobic, slightly mad and entirely unreasonable. Her hand went to her throat.

Her necklace was gone.

This was not good.

**NB Clearly Fanfiction does not like the story of how it has been tricked and made my story go all goopy and techno jargon. I'm coming to Caster Sugar Land to beat you up! Should be fixed now. **

**If that made no sense to you, never mind. Perhaps you should read Plain Jane in Thirteen Chapters. Or just accept that life is weird.**

**Anyway, short and sweet, let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hurricane Jane**

**Chapter One**

_**In which Jane meets in the in-laws**_

The city was grey, but impressive in an imperious way. Jane was surprised at how much she liked it – it reminded her of London in a way. Bustling, alive, but historic. She supposed she could see why Boromir loved it so much.

There was a chill in the air, and she didn't think it was just the weather. There was a heaviness in the air – you could actually feel Mordor.

This is not where she was supposed to be. The agreement hadn't been to be landed in Minas Tirith – before a battle! She barely survived the last skirmish she was in and Jane did not feel hopeful about a siege. Denethor was probably going to throw her in the dungeons anyway.

Lost in her thoughts as she followed the two guards up stairs, she realised they were passing the dead tree in the courtyard. She stopped and looked at it – white and brittle, there was no sign of life on it yet. We still have time then, she thought. A guard nudged her on and the huge wooden doors swung open.

Panic started to take her. What was she supposed to say to Boromir's old man? He would think she was a spy – and having the necklace was probably going to get her hanged.

The hall was amazing though – it was really dark inside and full of the stone statues the Gondorians were so fond of. She wondered if they were kings of old – Boromir had told her stories about them and they always sounded very honourable and a bit grim – like Aragorn really, except that he had a sense of humour hidden under his cloak somewhere. She could see the throne now, and an old man with long raggedy hair was sitting on it, holding a broken horn.

She gasped and felt a shooting pain in her heart.

"NO!" she shouted.

There was a pause. The man looked up at her, his cold green eyes reminding her of Boromir and his mouth twisted.

"Who are you that you dare address the Steward of Gondor in such a manner?" he hissed softly. Jane walked a bit closer towards him and studied the horn.

It was definitely his – she recognised the etching – but who had cleaved it in two? She had only seen two arrows in his chest. She was sure that Boromir lived! She studied Denethor.

"You will address Lord Denethor correctly," said an attendant at the side of the hall. She saw a man, who she was sure was not a guard or servant, looking at her with great interest.

"I am sorry Lord Denethor," she said, hesitantly. "Lord Boromir is not dead."

"How dare you!" shouted the guard but Denethor waved and he fell silent.

" You have no answered the question," he told her. She blinked.

"I am Jane," she said. What else could I say, she wondered. "Oh! I am a member of the Fellowship of the Ring and Lord Elrond said I was the first person to make him laugh in 500 years," she continued. Denethor continued to stare at her. "I fell down the stairs," she explained. A Pause. "Elves have really long sleeves and I'm short."

Shut up Jane, she thought.

"A member of the Fellowship and acquaintance with the Lord of Rivendell? These are grand claims to make for a little girl," he said. "If that's what you are."

"I'm not a little girl, I'm twenty-three," said Jane.

"But are you a girl?"

This, thought Jane, was a super creepy conversation to have with your future father-in-law, even if he was certifiably insane in the membrane.

"I'm not a boy. Or a hobbit. Or a man. Or…a dwarf," she said.

"What about a spy of Mordor?" he asked. The line of questioning, so calm and smooth was beginning to make Jane think that the conclusion, in his head, was foregone.

"No. I talk too much to be a spy." It was time, she thought, to take control of this conversation. "Boromir is not dead. I saw him. He's fine."

"When did you see him?" asked the man in the shadows. He stepped forward, and as Jane suspected, it was Boromir's brother. She soaked in the worn war tunic, and the sword hanging by his side and the sadness in his eyes.

"Six weeks ago," she said, saying I think in her head. It had been six weeks for her, but who knew how time worked her? She wasn't sure it was linear. Even thinking about it made her head hurt.

"I had a dream…" said Faramir, and spoke at length, Jane thought, about how he dreamt of a boat with Boromir in it and the horn. It was beautifully poetic, if morbid, but not what she wanted to hear.

"His horn washed up on the banks of the Anduin seven days ago," said Denethor, the despair in his eyes making them manic. "My son is dead. My bloodline is vanquished."

Jane awkwardly looked at Faramir.

"He is not dead!" said Jane. She refused to believe it.

Denethor jumped to his feet, making Jane step back in fear. He began to shake and started screaming. "WHO ARE YOU? ARE YOU A WITCH? WHAT SORCERY IS THIS? HOW CAME YOU BY MY WIFE'S NECKLACE!"

Jane fell over and he towered over her. "Father!" said Faramir, who stepped forward, but Denethor put his hand out and pushed him back.

Sitting on the floor, Jane looked up at Boromir's closest family. His father had not shaved in days, or washed or changed most likely. He gave of the impression of being volatile and violent, whereas Faramir looked like an abused puppy. They were grieving, she realised, for the only thing that bonded them together.

"I'm not a witch," she said slowly. "Or a spy. Boromir gave it to me. I was injured and he gave the necklace to me."

Faramir stared at her in astonishment. Denethor peered down at her, trying to discern if she was truthful or not and seemed to come to a decision. He turned away and said something in a whisper to Faramir who slowly nodded. He came over and helped her up – she hadn't realised but she was shaking. He led her out the hall, his hand on her upper arm. She wasn't quite sure if he was leading her to safety or to the dungeon.

She wasn't paying attention to her surroundings again. Boromir's father was mean. She was very glad that she hadn't had his childhood, it would have been difficult. And as for Boromir – don't even consider that thought, she told herself. He is alive and well, probably in Rohan somewhere, hanging out with horses.

She was in a little sitting room. Faramir let go of her arm and went and spoke to a woman who seemed to be a servant. She observed the room. Half way between fancy and cosy, the stonework fine and dotted with green chaise longues, armchairs and coffee tables, it felt oddly domestic. There were even cushions. This wasn't the Middle Earth she had grown to love – mostly she had slept on the ground, lulled to sleep by Boromir's soft snores, random stones digging into her back. She looked out the window. They were high up and she could see all the roofs and the city walls, and beyond that the flat plain and forests far in the distance. It was a totally different landscape than anything she had seen before.

"Tea is coming," said Faramir. She turned around to look at him. "Please sit and make yourself comfortable." Jane choose a comfy looking chair and sat down. Her stomach, still bandaged underneath her dress, had hurt a little when she fell over. "I am sorry my father frightened you. Are you well?" asked Faramir.

"I'm fine," said Jane.

There was a pause and she suddenly realised that the real interrogation started here.

"I'm sure your necklace will be returned to your presently," said Faramir, who had taken a seat opposite.

"If Lord Denethor wishes to keep it, I will not argue," said Jane. The servant came in with a tray of tea and some little cakes. She poured the tea into two cups.

"You know," said Faramir, "The significance of the necklace of course." He picked up his teacup.

This is like bloody chess, thought Jane. She picked up hers. "Of course. Your father gave it to your mother."

Faramir took a sip. "Yes, as an engagement present."

Jane considered it her crowning achievement that she didn't choke on her tea, but swallowed an incredibly hot gulp without her facing moving a millimetre.

"Indeed. A lovely gift," she said vaguely.

"And so," said Faramir. "We are to be brother and sister then."

_They think I'm engaged to Boromir,_ she realised.

_Well,_ a part of her said, _you kind of did say you'd marry him._

_Yes, _said the more rational part, _but I thought I was dying and I said Legolas would be bridesmaid._

_And Gimli would be a delightful flower girl._

_Shut up, brain! _

"I had never thought to see Boromir married so soon," said Faramir, carefully.

"Because he's so grumpy?" said Jane, without thinking.

Faramir (somewhat against his will) snorted. "He has never thought of a wife before," he continued.

"He's old, though," said Jane.

"The children of Hurin live longer lives than most men," said Faramir.

"True," mused Jane. "I mean Aragorn is like…90."

Faramir stayed very still. "You have met Aragorn son of Arathorn?"

"He's a friend," said Jane.

"So it is true…" said Faramir, who had a dreamy look in his eye. "My father suspects you are a spy of the heir to the throne."

"And Mordor, too? And as if Aragorn would let anyone spy for him!" Jane was a little bit insulted on Aragorn's behalf – he was far too honourable to let anyone spy for him.

"My brother is of the same opinion of my brother; Gondor has no king and Gondor needs no king," said Faramir.

Jane sighed. "You have heard that speech too then? Boromir changed his mind. They are friends."

Faramir was looking at her now as if she was an alien, but she supposed Boromir thought she was strange and he loved her.

"You expect us to believe Boromir wishes to marry a woman of no known rank, who is not educated in the ways of the court, who is not of Gondor and is friends with his enemies?" asked Faramir.

Jane blinked. "Well, Aragorn isn't his enemy. They're friends. They smoke together! But that is a good question."

"It is?" asked Faramir, who clearly wasn't expecting that answer.

"I had never even thought of it before," she realised, staring into the difference. "Why _does_ Boromir wish to marry me?" She turned to Faramir. "Did…did he court a lot of women here? Beautiful ladies?" Boromir, she reasoned, must have had a girlfriend at some point.

Her mind was in a tailspin. She was foreign – her Westron was still very thick, she was short (all the aristocrats were tall in Middle Earth, she felt like a hobbit), she wasn't royal, or Gondorian, didn't know anything about court…she was probably supposed to curtsey at Denethor not shout at him! She had a massive gash on her tummy, and random scars everywhere after being dragged across Middle Earth…

"My brother has never been known to court. He prefers the life of a soldier," said Faramir. "You are not exactly what we would expect him to choose."

Jane sighed. "Perhaps not," she said, sadly. Nothing was going to plan. She was not supposed to be here.

"He is very powerful, rich and important," said Faramir, "And is popular amongst many of the ladies of the court. There are many who would wish to marry the heir to the Stewardship of Gondor."

Jane snorted. "Boromir is scared of women, especially ladies like that."

Faramir narrowed his eyes at her. "This," he conceded, "may be true. Do you love him?" asked Faramir. She was startled by that question.

A lot of people had asked her that – and mostly expected her to say no. She had been either totally oblivious or callous to him for the most part. She liked making fun of him and shouting at him in English. She hadn't really thought anything of him at first – he was just gruff old Boromir, but when he looked at her with his pale green eyes with this amazing look…and the kissing…

She missed him. She missed him more than she was willing to say.

"Boromir," she told his brother. "Is the most annoying man in the world. He is stubborn, and opinionated, and old fashioned, and scared of change and he never listens to anything I say and his shoes are ugly," she said. Then she burst into tears. "And he snores!" she said through the tears.

Faramir, rather perplexed, comforted the crying girl. It would have been easier if she were a spy or a witch, because he believed that this girl was telling the truth, and he didn't know what was going on or how to handle it. Where was this girl with her strange accent from? How did she get separated from the rest of the Fellowship? Did Boromir really accept Aragorn? How was his father going to deal with the heir to the throne coming back? Most importantly – was Boromir still alive?

"There, there," he said, stroking her back. Hobbits, strange dreams, Mordor, orcs everywhere and now Boromir engaged? Faramir was beginning to think this might be the end of the world after all.

_NB. Yay! I'm back! Woop woop. I logged on for the first time in about a year and saw all the amazing reviews you wrote me and it made me want to write more. Appreciation is such good motivation! I love you people. So it's 2am and I haven't edited it but my policy with FF is just write the damn thing. Please let me tell you what you think!_

_larry1710 xx_


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